Addy’s Eyes Drifted Open Slowly
Spenser was crouched at her side, fingers tangled in her hair. She felt a physical click run through her system as his gaze locked with hers, bringing her closer to wakefulness.
“You know, you’re incredibly beautiful when you sleep.” His voice was soft and low. She opened her mouth in surprise and he immediately covered it with his own. Someone was moaning softly. Addy was afraid it was her. Her brain struggled to recall how she’d gotten into this situation.
Spenser had been explaining something about the will, the house and the money…. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and he pulled her closer. Something about living here for six months…but there was more, she was sure of it….
With a near shriek of rage, Addy tore her mouth from Spenser’s and shoved hard at his shoulders.
“Did you say that I have to be married?”
Dear Reader,
Thank you for choosing Silhouette Desire. As always, we have a fabulous array of stories for you to enjoy, starting with Just a Taste by Bronwyn Jameson, the latest installment in our DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS continuity series. This tale of forbidden attraction between two romance-wary souls will leave you breathless and wanting more from this wonderful author—who will have a brand-new miniseries of her own, PRINCES OF THE OUTBACK, out later this year.
The terrific Annette Broadrick is back with another book in her CRENSHAWS OF TEXAS series. Double Identity is an engrossing page-turner about seduction and lies…you know, all that good stuff! Susan Crosby continues her BEHIND CLOSED DOORS series with Rules of Attraction, the first of three brand-new stories set in the world of very private investigations. Roxanne St. Claire brings us a fabulous McGrath brother hero caught in an unexpected situation, in When the Earth Moves. Rochelle Alers’s THE BLACKSTONES OF VIRGINIA series wraps up with Beyond Business, a story in which the Blackstone patriarch gets involved in a surprise romance with his new—and very pregnant—assistant. And last but certainly not least, the engaging Amy Jo Cousins is back this month with Sleeping Arrangements, a terms-of-the-will story not to be missed.
Here’s hoping you enjoy all six of our selections this month. And, in the months to come, look for Maureen Child’s THREE-WAY WAGER series and a brand-new installment of our infamous TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB.
Happy reading!
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor
Silhouette Desire
Sleeping Arrangements
Amy Jo Cousins
AMY JO COUSINS
loves words of all kinds, and her love of reading naturally led to a love of writing. Amy also has a passion for languages and there’s nothing she likes better than learning a new language and using it to explore the history of a foreign country, whether standing on the beaches of D-Day in Normandy or outside the Olympic Stadium in Munich.
Her collection of books is slowly crowding her out of her home, although her cat seems more than willing to fall asleep upon the various piles. Other than that, Amy loves learning how to do anything that takes her outdoors and away from her computer including kayaking, sculling, rock climbing and landscape water painting.
For the Albinack boys— Bruce Edward, Matthew McKinley and Finley Edward. You set the bar high, fellas.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
One
“I admit I didn’t expect a professional appearance, but I thought at least you’d be clean.”
The crisp voice crawled like ice down Addy’s spine, drawing her up straighter with each word. Pride and irritation kept her from turning around to respond to the man who’d walked into the law office behind her.
She brushed a hand reflexively over her filthy blue jeans. No sense even trying to straighten her ratty curls. Running her fingers through her hair wouldn’t remove the caked mud, although, according to the mirror in her pickup truck, she was fairly sure she’d managed to pick out all of the twigs. The rest of her muck-covered body was definitely a lost cause.
“I told your assistant this was a bad time for me, but she insisted this was the only appointment you had available.”
Sharp footsteps on the worn linoleum floor allowed her to pull her body to the side, avoiding the man’s passing. As he moved to stand behind the scarred wood desk, she got her first glimpse of the man who’d been leaving increasingly irritated messages on her answering machine over the last month.
She wondered if Mr. Spencer Reed ever cut himself on the sharp creases in his pants. Certainly the suit he wore as if it had been hand sewn for him by a London tailor was worth more than her entire wardrobe. Even his horn-rimmed glasses looked more stylish than anything she’d ever owned. Ignoring the demon in her mind that whispered of a blond Christopher Reeve in Clark Kent mode, she let her gaze roam casually over his face and body in a manner calculated to return insult.
Dark blond hair waving in deliberately casual disarray indicated an excellent barber. His cheekbones screamed good breeding, and that firm mouth surely never uttered words unless it was to bend courts and clients to his will. The emotionless ice-blue gaze made it difficult to look away. She reminded herself that she’d always found her family’s uniformly dark eyes to be warm and welcoming. This man, she thought, was easily summed up by a few of her least favorite words.
Slick. Cultured. Upper-class.
Because she couldn’t stomach hypocrisy, even her own, she admitted that a couple more words could be added to that list. Compelling. Coolly handsome. The seduction of assurance. If he bothered to turn on the charm, she’d probably be a lost cause.
The mismatch of his appearance with the ratty look of his office momentarily sparked her curiosity. Mr. Sharp-Dressed Man just didn’t fit in with these worn and tatty surroundings. She forced herself to ignore the temptation to speculate on his circumstances.
The trust fund on legs was still speaking. She dragged her attention back, annoyed further that he seemed to take no notice of her rudeness.
“I am very busy, and most people find ten o’clock to be a perfectly civilized hour for a business meeting.”
“I’m not most people.”
“Clearly.”
Addy kept a throttling grip on her temper. She wished she possessed the same control over the flush she felt heating up her cheeks. Her awareness of being inappropriately dressed combined with his implication that his time was far more valuable than hers had kindled a fire of embarrassment and anger that she knew he read on her face.
“Listen, Mr. Reed. You called. I came. What’s so important I had to interrupt my job for you?”
“Your job. Would that be ladies’ mud wrestling?”
Her vision blurred. Addy was dimly aware that